THE SOUTHERN INDIANS.
The Southern Indians, in the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida, were composed of many different tribes. Of these, the most distinguished were the Catawbas, Cherokees, Choctaws, Chickasaws, and Creeks. In 1671, the Cherokees in South Carolina were estimated at 6,000 bowmen. It is thought that the Corees, Stonoes, Westoes, Savannas, Yamassees, Catawbas, and Congarees could not have been less numerous, and that, in this colony alone, there were as many as 35 or 36,000 Indians, including 12,000 warriors. The Creeks numbered about 25,000. The Chickasaws, Alabamas, and Natchez were computed at 10,476 fighting men, and the whole population at 31,128 souls. The Natchez were once a great nation, and were able, at one time, to raise not less than 4,000 warriors.
These Indians, as well as the others, viewed with jealousy the settlements of the whites, and were, from time to time, more or less engaged in attacks upon the colonists, whom they greatly annoyed in their infant state. They also carried on war with the Five Nations, and many remarkable feats of their valor are related. One of these deserves to be mentioned. A party of Senecas, in an excursion far south, near the territories of the Catawbas, discovered a young hunter in a light summer dress. They intercepted him, and he ran towards a hollow for the purpose of concealing himself. He was swift of foot, and so skilful in archery, that he shot down seven of his pursuers before they were able to capture him. They then took him to their own country, and there he was condemned, in a council of warriors, to die by torture.
On being led out to the stake where he was to be burned alive, he suddenly collected his strength, dashed down his nearest enemies, sprang to the waters of a neighbouring stream, plunged in, and swam underneath, rising only at intervals to take breath, till he reached the shore. The Senecas followed him through the water, and fired their guns, but they were at such a distance they could not reach him. He stopped for a moment or two, contemptuously set them at defiance, and then fled into the forest. Closely pursued, he ran on till midnight, and then lay by among the bushes, hiding himself under some logs.
Five of his enemies came near, and, kindling their fire, lay down to sleep. He watched them earnestly, till they were all in a sound slumber. He then silently crawled to the place, seized a tomahawk, and, by a sudden attack, killed them, and scalped them. He then clothed himself in the dress of one of them, took their guns, ammunition, and provisions, and pursued his way. Still he was not satisfied with his revenge, but went directly to the spot where he had killed the seven Senecas, dug up the bodies from their graves, scalped them, burned them to ashes, and went home in triumph. Another party of the Senecas afterwards came up, but finding the five warriors whom he had killed and scalped, they gave up the pursuit. A war-council was called, and it was determined, that a man who could do such things must be a wizard, whom it was vain to pursue or oppose.
In 1715, there was a general conspiracy and rising of the Southern Indians, especially those in South Carolina. The league comprised the Yamassees, a powerful tribe, the Creeks, Cherokees, Appalachians, Catawbas, Congarees, and all the Indians from Florida to Cape Fear River. The object of this extensive conspiracy was the total destruction of the Carolinians. The 15th of April was the day fixed upon for its execution. The whole plot was managed with such secrecy and under such a guise of friendship, that the English had not the least suspicion of treachery. Even traders among them slept the very night before with the king and his war-captains, in the chief town of the Yamassees.
All was peace and silence until the morning. They then burst forth, fell on the traders, and killed them all at a single volley, except one man and a boy. The nation immediately rose in arms, and proclaimed their designs of vengeance. The chiefs stimulated the young warriors, who caught their spirit, and poured forth like a torrent on the unsuspecting settlers. In a few hours they massacred a hundred men in the town of Pocataligo and the neighbouring plantations. The man and boy, who were not killed at the first fire, made their escape to Port Royal, and the inhabitants generally fled on board a ship for Charleston. Some other families, who were unable to escape, were murdered.
While the Yamassees were thus desolating the southern frontiers, the Congarees, Catawbas, and Cherokees came down in great force on the north. The southern division of the Indians in this war was computed at 6,000 bowmen, and the northern at 600 or 1,000. A company, which was sent against the northern division, was betrayed by the treachery of an Indian; the captain was slain, and his party defeated. In one place, seventy whites and about forty negroes, having bravely defended their post against the northern division, capitulated, and, after their surrender are said to have been perfidiously massacred. Flushed with their success, the Indians went on burning, murdering, and plundering. They were soon, however, met by a band of militia, raised on the emergency, and totally defeated.
The governor of South Carolina advanced with an army, and, at a place called Saltcalches, a bloody battle was fought. The Indians, uttering fearful war-cries and yells, sometimes retired behind the bushes, and then, when the English were beginning to be encouraged with the hope of success, they returned to the fight with redoubled fury. They were, however, at last wholly defeated, and driven across the Savannah River. The Yamassees, despairing of being able to expel or exterminate the whites, and cherishing a spirit of bold independence, fled to Florida, where they were afterwards troublesome to the settlements in that vicinity.
In April, 1730, a commissioner was sent to treat with the Cherokees. A general assembly of the chiefs was thereupon summoned, who swore allegiance to King George. A treaty was made, which was kept inviolate by the Indians for thirty years. In 1760, they again made war on the English. Parties of them had assisted in the expedition against Fort du Quesne. In that enterprise they were treated with coldness and neglect, and felt themselves insulted. Returning home, as many of the warriors had lost their horses, they caught and appropriated such as they found loose in the woods. The Virginians, roused by these aggressions, fell on them, killed twelve or fifteen, and took several prisoners.
The Cherokees were at once kindled into rage; they went home, and told their wrongs to their nation. The relatives of those who were slain breathed nothing but revenge. The French emissaries secretly fanned the flame, and added fresh fuel to their angry passions. The young warriors rushed down on the frontier settlements, and committed ravages on the defenceless inhabitants. They attacked the troops stationed at Fort Loudon, a portion of whom were killed, and the remainder confined within the fort. Still, the nation generally were averse to war, particularly as they heard that the English were making great preparations to attack them. They therefore sent thirty-two of their chief men to settle the difficulties in an amicable manner. The governor of North Carolina received them haughtily, and overwhelmed them with reproaches. Ouconnostota, who was considered a great warrior in the Cherokee nation, began to reply, but the governor would not hear him. This treatment greatly exasperated the Indians, who had now a new insult added to their other wrongs. The governor soon after marched for the country of the Congarees, 140 miles from Charleston, taking with him the Cherokee sachems, who were detained as prisoners, a guard being set over them. On reaching Fort George, they were shut up in a hut scarcely fit to accommodate a dozen soldiers, and were not allowed to see their friends, or even enjoy the light of day.
Here the governor opened a conference with the Indians, who had been assembled for the purpose. He had sent, among others, for Attakullakulla, or Little Carpenter, who was esteemed the wisest man in the nation, and the most attached of all to the English. By his request, Ouconnostota and two more of the chiefs were set free. Two others, who were delivered up as hostages, being put in irons, the Cherokees were alarmed and fled. Attakullakulla returned home to await the result. He was, however, soon summoned back, and finally a treaty was signed by the governor, and the head men of the Cherokees. Still, the remembrance of the treatment they had received lay deeply buried in the breasts of the Indians; and Attakullakulla, on account of his known attachment to the English, had little influence with them.
Ouconnostota, under a sense of his wrongs, was implacable and vindictive. He collected his warriors, made a fierce attack on the whites, killed fourteen men near Fort George, and besieged the garrison. He also contrived a stratagem to surprise the fort. He sent two Indian women, who were always welcome there, to decoy out the garrison; the lieutenant went forth to inquire the news, when Ouconnostota joined them, saying that he wished to see the commanding officer on important business. Accordingly, the captain, lieutenant, and ensign went out to meet him. The chief said he was going to Charleston to procure a release of prisoners, and wished a white man for a safeguard.
The request seemed reasonable, and the captain told him he should have one. No sooner was the answer returned, than Ouconnostota gave the signal agreed on, and nearly thirty guns were at once discharged on the English. The captain was killed, and the lieutenant and ensign were wounded. This treachery so exasperated the garrison, that the hostages in the fort were immediately put to death. In the evening, the Indians approached the fort, and, after firing their guns, and crying out in the Cherokee language, “Fight manfully and you shall be assisted,” they made a most furious attack, which they kept up all night. But they were so well met by the fire of the troops within the fort, that they were obliged to retire.
Disappointed in this project, they turned their rage upon the Indian traders, and massacred them. The war now became general; large parties of warriors fell on the defenceless frontiers, and cut off many families. About 200 of them attacked the fort at Ninety-Six, but were obliged to retire with loss. In the mean time an expedition was planned against the Indians; and presents were given to such Creeks, Chickasaws, and Catawbas, as joined in the war against the Cherokees. Their towns in the lower settlement were attacked and destroyed, and many of the natives slain. After this, a message was sent to Fort Loudon, requesting the commanding officers to use their best endeavours to obtain peace with the Cherokees of the upper towns. But they were unsuccessful, and an attack on the middle settlements was therefore resolved upon.
On the third day, as the army were advancing, the Cherokees made a most furious assault upon them. A long and obstinate fight ensued, but, finally, the Indians gave way, and fled. The army immediately pressed forward to Etchowa, but the Indians had removed their property, and forsaken the town. Again an attack was made, and the English, after a severe contest, though claiming the victory, found themselves forced to retreat. Soon after this, Fort Loudon surrendered, and the Indians fell upon the garrison as they were marching homeward. All were slain except Captain Stewart, whom Attakullakulla ransomed and sent home, at the price of nearly all he possessed. The conduct of the chief, in this case, forms a bright and beautiful passage in Indian history.
The war with the Cherokees still continued, and the French sought with all their art to engage the Creeks and Choctaws against the English. A force of Scotch Highlanders, and a provincial regiment, with numbers of Chickasaws and Catawbas, who had been induced, by presents, to engage in the service,—the whole consisting of 2,600 men,—were now sent forward to Fort Prince George. Here Attakullakulla met them, and besought the commander to proceed no farther till he had used his endeavours to bring about a peace with his countrymen. But his entreaties were vain. The officer proceeded, and the troops were attacked by the Cherokees, who rushed down from the high grounds with great fury. The battle was long and dubious; the Indians, when repulsed at one point, assailed another, and the fight was maintained from nine to eleven o’clock, when the Cherokees, overpowered by superior discipline, fled, and were pursued till two o’clock. Etchowa, and fourteen other towns of the middle settlements, were now utterly destroyed, together with several magazines of corn, and 1,400 acres of cornfields. After ravaging the country, far and wide, the English returned to Fort Prince George.
Soon after this, Attakullakulla and several chiefs went to the camp and expressed earnest wishes for peace. Articles were drawn up and interpreted, and Attakullakulla agreed to accept all but one, which he had no power from his nation to grant. This was, that four Cherokees should be delivered up, and put to death in front of the army. As they could not accede to this cruel demand, the chiefs were sent to Charleston to confer with the governor. He met them at Ashley Ferry, and gave them a welcome. The fire was kindled, and the pipe of peace was lighted and smoked, in silence and great solemnity. Then Attakullakulla rose up and made an eloquent and manly speech, saying, “that he came as a messenger of peace; that his people were in great distress; that, though the English were their superiors, and lived in light, while they were in darkness, yet that one God was the Father of both; that they lived in one country, and that he wished what had happened might now be forgotten, and that they might be as one people.”
A peace was thereupon established, and both parties expressed their wish that it might last as long as the rivers should run, or the sun shine. This was at the close of the year 1761.
The Natchez were a powerful tribe of Indians, who inhabited that part of our country now called Louisiana. They differed, in many respects, from the rest of the Southern Indians, and many of their customs were singular. In their worship of the sun, they bore a strong resemblance to the ancient Peruvians, and may, perhaps, have had a common ancestry with them. But they were much more warlike, and occasioned great trouble to the French settlements in that vicinity. On one occasion, they formed a deep plan for the extermination of every Frenchman among them. A considerable time was taken in maturing it, and it was so complete in its details, that nothing but its discovery by a female, who was attached to the French, could probably have defeated its execution.
A day was fixed upon, when the savages were to rise simultaneously and massacre the whites. Those who planned the enterprise, in order to insure unity of action, furnished a number of rods to each tribe; one rod was to be taken from the collection every day, till there remained but one, and this was to indicate the time for the massacre. The woman, to whom we have alluded, in order to defeat the scheme of her people, took away one of these rods, and, as the Indians never counted them, a part of the Natchez began the massacre one day too soon. The French were thus apprized of the hostile design, and took measures to defeat it. Still, many of them fell victims to the fury of the Indians. In revenge, the whites attacked them, and, in the end, this powerful tribe were nearly all destroyed, and their habitations reduced to ashes. These events took place in 1729.
The settlements of the French on the Yazoo and Washita rivers were subjected to an attack similar to that just related, and with the like result. The Natchez, who survived the French retaliation of their massacres, fled to the Chickasaws.